If the Shoe Fits
by coffeequeen73
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have been invited to a tea party at Malfoy Manor. This calls for a new pair of shoes. Just a few Dramione drabbles with a shoe shopping focus. Sometimes OOC, but always fluffy.
1. Chapter 1

"I don't know why you are making me do this," Hermione said with a sniff. "The shoes I have on are perfectly fine." 

Draco glanced down at the white flats he had watched his girlfriend slip on just before running out of her muggle-London flat. Hermione had crawled through her closet flinging random clothing aside to find the relatively new and mostly clean shoes. Draco grimaced as he noticed a smudge on one of the toes. She must have dirtied them as they traipsed through London to find the nearest apparition point. He knew Hermione thought the shoes were perfectly acceptable for a Saturday afternoon tea party. She had told him that they were "youthful, comfortable, and complimented her floral sundress." But Draco knew that acceptable wasn't good enough. 

"Yes, yes, Granger," replied Draco, "but tea with Narcissa Malfoy is an event for which one must wear shoes that are better than fine. For tea with my mother, one's shoes must be perfect." 

Draco knew all too well about Narcissa's excessive judgment of humanity based on their choice of shoes. The matriarch of the Malfoy had, through both pureblood genetics and lengthy tutorials, passed along impeccable taste and extensive shoe knowledge to her sole prodigy. For Merlin's sake, the woman had Shoe Rules and she had not been afraid to impart them with regularity during Draco's childhood! 

Narcissa had shown more than a little disdain when she entered Malfoy Manor's library one sunny, summer afternoon and found a 7-year-old Draco propping his stinky, athletic-shoe clad feet upon a cognac leather ottoman. With a frown she said, "Rule #4, Draco dear… One should always wear the appropriate shoes for the event. While you'll never see me in a pair of trainers, you may wear them for exercise. Outside. But they are definitely not appropriate inside our home. Kindly find a pair of loafers to wear while you read." 

Ten years later Narcissa's disdain was immeasurable as the Dark Lord took possession of her residence. Happy moments were few and far between, but on occasion she had escaped Malfoy Manor and snuck into her favorite upscale wizarding boutiques for a few cheerful moments of retail therapy. Although it was far from his favorite pastime, Draco often found himself joining his mother and wandering behind her. Truth be told, he enjoyed the simple diversion. With the world around them crumbling, the pair dared to find a few moments of normalcy while shoe shopping. Draco would watch Narcissa gaze at red leather peep-toes or black suede pointy-toed boots and then listened as she imparted nuggets of shoe wisdom. "Rule #13, darling… Never buy a chintzy shoe. Your shoes make a statement. They should always be the most expensive item in your wardrobe. It would never do for people to forget your pureblood status." 

Hoping to create memories at Malfoy Manor that put the dark times behind them, Narcissa was throwing what she described as a "little tea party." But Draco knew better – nothing Narcissa Malfoy touched was "little." Draco imagined flower arrangements that would dwarf a man, at least a dozen imported tea types served in hand painted bone china cups, and a gaggle of hoity-toity witches and wizards wandering through Narcissa's rose garden. 

In anticipation of the afternoon's soiree, Draco had methodically coordinated his tea party ensemble. His Slytherin green driving moccasins perfectly enhanced his navy trousers, starched shirt, and khaki linen robes. Miraculously, Granger's hastily clad navy blue and white floral robes appeared to coordinate with Draco's ensemble while her fascinator sat at a jaunty angle on top of her magically restrained chestnut curls. They were quite the fashionable couple. But those shoes… Hermione's white flats simply would not do at Narcissa Malfoy's tea party. 

Something, thought Draco Malfoy, had to be done about those shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

"After you," said Draco as he ushered Hermione through the door of wizarding England's most exclusive boutique. 

Entering the shop, Hermione gasped at the dazzling dresses, shoes, and accessories surrounding her. From the outside, the boutique had looked like one of the many other curious shops in Diagon Alley, even a little dingy and unkempt. But as she moved further into the sparkling establishment, it was obvious that numerous magical spells were creating a radiant shopping experience. Despite her irritation, Hermione stared in awe as a salesperson hurried to their aid. 

"Mr. Malfoy! What a surprise. We have not seen you in such a long time. How can we help you?" 

"Good afternoon. This is Hermione Granger. We would like to purchase new shoes," said Draco in a tone of voice that affirmed the formal manners instilled in him from an early age. 

"More like my boyfriend would like his girlfriend to have some new shoes," muttered Hermione under her breath. Annoyed by the whole situation, Hermione chafed at Draco's formal introduction. Everyone in wizarding England knew about the relationship between Hermione Granger, war hero, and Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater, thanks to Rita Skinner and the Daily Prophet. 

"In truth, we have an engagement to attend at Malfoy Manor this afternoon and I would love shoes that are more luxurious for Hermione to wear with her party robes," explained Draco to the salesperson. 

"Luxurious? Torturous, you mean," grumbled Hermione with arms crossing her chest. She imagined 6-inch stiletto heels and pointed toes that would leave her with blisters long after the Malfoy tea party was over. 

Draco glanced for a millisecond at Hermione's feet and looked back to the salesperson with a grimacing and pleading look that communicated the gravity of the situation. 

"Um-Hmm," said the salesperson thoughtfully while taking in the mundane shoe choice Hermione had made that morning. Immediately she understood Draco's concern. Narcissa Malfoy frequented this particular boutique on a regular basis. Her fashion preferences leaned toward the classic and expensive, so the salesperson was certain that Hermione's white flats with blotchy, dirty toes would never do for a Malfoy Manor social event. 

After a moment of awkward silence, the salesperson smiled warmly as she spoke. "Well, I believe we can find something both appropriate and delightful for Miss Granger to wear for the event." Eyeballing Hermione's party robes and fascinator, the salesperson waved her wand and cast a quick spell. "Accio party shoes," she stated and within seconds a myriad of shoeboxes had arrived, neatly stacking themselves beside a heavily gilded and brocade chair. 

"Miss Granger, would you please take a seat?" asked the salesperson while motioning to the chair. Hermione wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes at Draco as she flung herself into the chair. 

Draco knew Hermione was angry. She had nearly hexed him when he apparated them to Diagon Alley and insisted on visiting the boutique for a quick shoe shopping expedition instead of going directly to the tea party. He knew she underestimated the importance of her shoe choice, but Hermione needed to trust him in this situation. Draco had vast knowledge of his mother's tea parties and even greater knowledge regarding the judgmental nature of those attending the event. And while his muggle-born witch may be completely oblivious to the shrewd glances of former pureblood purists, Draco was trained to notice their validation. Or lack thereof. 

He no longer agreed with the pureblood ridiculousness that had been fed to him on a daily basis during his formative years. He loved his muggle-born witch and Hermione loved him, too. He knew good-and-well that she loved him more than he deserved. And while it had taken time, Draco knew his mother didn't condone the pureblood rhetoric either. Privately and quietly Narcissa had come to accept Hermione; she even supported Draco's relationship with the witch. 

But as far as the matriarch had come in changing her sentiments about muggle-born witches and wizards, Narcissa Malfoy's opinion about shoes had not changed in the slightest. The Shoe Rules were always to be followed, and at this moment Draco could hardly forget his mother's imparted wisdom. "Always remember Rule #2, Draco. Wizards don't want to walk a mile in your shoes. They just want to judge them." 

Draco sighed. If they couldn't find Hermione better shoes in the next five minutes, the poor girl would be weighed in the balance and found seriously wanting at Malfoy Manor. Hermione wouldn't care, of course; the woman who had helped defeat Voldemort probably wouldn't even notice that other people were judging her shoes. Until someone made a comment that stung and hurt Hermione's feelings in front of others at the tea party. No, Draco could not, and would not, submit the love of his life to snobbish scrutiny. 

"For the love of Merlin," he whispered, "Let us find the perfect pair of shoes."


End file.
